


Ad Astra

by The13thBlackCat



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Canon, Character Death, Drama, F/M, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The13thBlackCat/pseuds/The13thBlackCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A happier ending for Mass Effect 3. Based on MEHEM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ad Astra

   Melanie exhaled--shortly, trying to ignore the pain it brought on--and stumbled back from the console. It was done. It was finally **_done_**.

   Wordlessly, she turned. Anderson had dragged himself up into a sitting position, and she made her way to him, taking a seat next to her admiral.

   "Commander." He gave a slight nod.

   "We did it, sir," she answered, her voice hoarse and strained. He nodded again, this time in agreement.

   "That we did." His own voice was weary, and he let out a soft sigh. "It's...quite a view." Melanie followed his gaze, blinking blood out of her eyes. Before them was Earth: ravaged, burning, beautiful.

   "Best seats in the house," she agreed. A Reaper drifted past, broken pieces spiraling off it, with three turian fighters and a dreadnought in pursuit.

   "God." Anderson made a pained, rough sound. "It feels like it's been years since I just...sat...down..."

   "I think you've earned the rest."

   He made a sound in his throat that might have been a laugh at any other time.

   "You ever wonder how things might have been?" He let out a breath. "How it might have been different, if none of this had happened?"

   Melanie didn't answer. _Too often._ She tasted blood on her lips, but was too exhausted to wipe it away. It didn't seem important anyway.

   It didn't matter that she didn't answer, though, because Anderson continued, "I never...had a family, Shepard. Never had children."

   Melanie took a breath. "Time enough for that now, sir." This time, he actually did laugh, very shortly and very softly.

   "I...think that ship has sailed." He turned slightly to look at her. "What about you? Ever think about settling down?"

   Melanie smiled, briefly, before wincing and sucking in a soft breath as something in her chest started to hurt again. "I...like the sound of that." She swallowed. "Not sure if it's in the cards for me, though. Or if I'd even be much good at it."

   Anderson made a dismissive noise. "Sure you would. You'd be a great mother. Think how proud your kids will be to say their mom is the great Commander Shepard."

   Melanie's eyes burned and blurred. She hadn't thought she had the energy for tears.

_We'll retire someplace tropical and live off the royalties from the vids. Maybe even find out what a turian-human baby looks like..._

   She swallowed again, harder, closing her eyes briefly. She hadn't really expected that future to come true anyway, and now...now she certainly didn't. Her fingers felt slick and wet, but not warm. She could hardly feel them at all. "I...I don't know about that." And because the truth--that she didn't think she was going to live to even try for that future--was too painful, she said instead, "Not everything I've done is something to be proud of."

   Anderson shifted again, and when he answered, his voice was unexpectedly fierce.

   " _I'm_ proud of you." He let out a breath, settling back. "You did good, child. You did good."

   A few tears--all her exhausted body could manage--ran down her cheeks as she opened her eyes again. It hurt to smile, but she did anyway. "Thank you, sir."

   He didn't answer, and she turned slightly. His head was bowed, his eyes closed. "Anderson?"

   After a few moments of silence, Melanie just sat back and looked at Earth. Wherever he'd gone, she hoped it was peaceful.

   She wasn't sure how long she sat there, watching the battle for survival and waiting. It didn't seem to matter much now. She'd done all she could, and even if there had been more, she didn't think she could manage it. She hoped it had been enough.

   "C...mander?" Joker's voice and a burst of static in her ear startled her out of her trance. She hadn't expected to be in radio range here. "...der, do...copy?"

   "Joker? Where are you?" She searched the view of space in front of her, but saw no sign of the Normandy. She hadn't really expected to, though.

   "I'm getting...eadings...nk we should go! Where--"

   Melanie gritted her teeth, shoving herself up. Her legs shook underneath her, and _everything_ hurt, in a numb, distant kind of way. The Crucible must be about to fire, and she had no idea where she was, or how to tell Joker her position...or what the Crucible would do to the Normandy if it was too close. Her vision swam and her legs nearly buckled, but she forced herself towards the console. Maybe it could tell her something.

   "...an't get a lock on...sition. Repeat, what is y...osition?"

   "Joker, I don't..." She let out a breath, and her legs gave out under her with her next step. She could only manage a grunt of pain when she fell, clutching her side and trying to focus though the black spotting her vision. Joker's voice was running together with static in her ear.

   She choked back a sob, focusing on the console. Everything else was a blur. If she couldn't walk, she would drag herself there.

   She only got a few more feet before the pain was too much, though, and her head swam. After all she'd managed to do, it was a console that defeated her. In a distant way, she almost found it absurdly funny.

   "Joker, I can't..." She swallowed, panting, "You have to go. That's an order. Go!"

   When she laid her head down on the cool floor, she only had a moment to hope he'd listened before she blacked out.

* * *

   "--'s an...rder. Go!"

   "Like hell ve're leavink you behind," Nikolai snapped from his seat, trying to sort through the information the Normandy was feeding him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joker shake his head.

   "I think we lost her. Too much interference. We'll have to find her ourselves." Nikolai didn't answer, because he could see as much himself: whatever the Crucible was doing, it was going to be _big_ , and the ship didn't seem to want to be there for it. Or at least that was what it looked like she was trying to tell him. The comm crackled to life and for a moment Nikolai felt a thrill of excitement, until Admiral Hackett's voice came over.

   "All fleets, the Crucible is armed. Disengage and meet at the rendezvous point. Repeat, disengage and get the hell out of here!"

   Nikolai turned slightly, looking up to meet Joker's eyes. They just stared at each other for a heartbeat, dread filling the space between them. _They would have to leave her._

   For an instant, there was silence as Joker stared back at him, processing the order. Nikolai swallowed, then took a breath, gritting his teeth. Without Shepard aboard, he was the CO of the Normandy. He turned back to his interface.

   "Belay dat order, flight lieutenant. Ve leave vith Shepard, or not at all. Is dat clear?"

   Joker hesitated for a moment, then nodded and turned back to the display in front of him. "Crystal, sir. Setting course now."

   Nikolai let out a breath, though it did little to calm him. Now they just had to get in, locate one woman in hundreds of thousands of miles of space, get her back out, and hopefully not get blown up by the weapon they'd built in the process. Maybe even without anyone realizing they'd disobeyed a direct order. _Piece of cake, right,_ he thought darkly.

   Then, an instant later: _Cake would be nice. Seems the least we can get for saving the universe. Again._

   Dimly, he heard Joker muttering to the Normandy as the ship turned in towards the Crucible. He tried not to think about it too hard, or about if she was even there. She had to be, or they would never find her.

   "I believe I have managed to locate the commander's signal." EDI's voice cut through his thoughts and he felt some of his anxiety wash away. "I am transferring it to both of you now." Even as she spoke, the coordinates popped onto Nikolai's interface above the warnings regarding the massing power in the Crucible: she was right in the middle of everything, of course. Joker let out a little breath that Nikolai took to mean he'd seen it too.

   "I think you'll need to take the shuttle for this."

   He nodded, already having made the same conclusion and halfway out of his seat. "Stand by for pickup, I'll be back ASAP."

   "Copy that." If there was more, Nikolai missed it: he was already jogging towards the elevator and out of earshot.

   The elevator seemed to take forever to reach the shuttle bay, and Nikolai was pacing the small space by the time it dinged and came to a stop. He all but bolted to the back-up shuttle, sliding into the pilot's seat as the bay door eased open. He was out as soon as he had enough room.

   The coordinates popped up on his display again and he set a course for them, trying not to think about how there was a giant fucking weapon powering up to blast every Reaper to hell and back and he was flying right into the middle of it, because that wasn't helping his concentration very much. Helpfully, the shuttle pointed out that this was probably not a great plan, and Nikolai angrily swiped the warnings out of his view.

   The shuttle finally eased its way onto a platform, bare of everything but a raised console and three bodies. Nikolai barely remembered to stop it before he had the door open and was stumbling out.

   Only one of them was a woman--as far as he could tell--and he went to her first, rolling her onto her back. She looked terrible: her hardsuit had been broken and melted beyond recognition and the undersuit torn away in places to reveal burned flesh, and her face was scorched and bruised and bloody...but she was, without a doubt, his commander.

   Shepard made a sound like a wounded animal when he moved her, blinking at him with pale eyes, unfocused and confused instead of the piercing certainty he was used to from her. Her bloodied lips moved, and, her voice hoarse and pained and so quiet he could barely hear her, she whispered:

   "Ni...kolai...?"

   She had raised a wavering hand towards his face and Nikolai caught it firmly, kneeling beside her.

   "Is me, ma'am. You know ve don't leave people behind. Even on orders." He raised her into a sitting position despite her low moan of pain, letting her lean against him, and reached up to press the button on his earpiece before shifting to put an arm around her.

   "Joker? Is Nikolai, Shepard is alive but badly vounded." He hoisted her up despite her whimper of protest, pulling her over his shoulders and turning back to the shuttle. "Ve're on our vay back."

   There was a brief burst of static in his ear as he secured Shepard in the shuttle before Joker answered, "Copy that, if you could hurry that would be great."

   Nikolai didn't answer, double-checking her restraints quickly. He hoped she would survive to get to the Normandy. She had to. She was Commander Fucking Shepard.

   That done, he turned to look at the other two bodies before leaving. One was Admiral Anderson, and the other...he narrowed his eyes. He recognized that suit. He stopped to get Anderson, but left the Illusive Man where he was. He hoped the Crucible blew that asshole to hell with the Reapers.

   He punched in the Normandy's coordinates before he had even secured himself in the pilot's seat, glancing over his shoulder. Anderson was gone, but Shepard...as far as he could tell, she was still alive.

   She had to be.

* * *

   Voices. Hauntingly familiar, but too vague, too blurred, for her to make sense of them. Dimly, she was aware of a dark place, and trees, and a throbbing boom that made her body ache.

   But that was all, and after that, nothing.

* * *

   "...shouldn't be surprised you're awake, I guess. I mean, the last time you were in here was when you caught a rocket with your face, and you were practically out within a couple hours."

   "It was a small rocket."

   "Still, it was a _rocket_ , and your _face_. Not that you can tell the difference or anything, but you know. What, they only dropped a truck on you this time, right?"

   "I think it was a tank, actually. A _small_ one."

   Melanie only realized she was actively listening to the conversation after a few moments, and the realization startled her into determining that she must be awake. She had stopped listening to the words, but she recognized the tones: Joker, cheerful and half-exasperated, and the slightly deeper flange that belonged to Garrus. She smiled a little at the revelation that, wherever she was, at least two of her favorite men were there with her.

   "...all in all I expected you to get back to calibrating a few days ago, but here you are, still in the med bay. Getting old, Garrus?"

   Garrus scoffed. "I think I've earned a rest. Anyway, we already killed the Reapers. Not much point in calibrating the Normandy's guns for anything else right now. Not until we find some other impossibly powerful enemy to kill us, anyway."

   "So, sometime tomorrow, then?"

   "Hopefully not." Melanie let out a breath, surprised at how much effort those two words had taken, and forced her eyes open, raising her head a little. The effort made her woozy, but it passed quickly.

   "Commander!" They both started when she spoke, and Melanie smiled a little in response. Joker was sitting in Dr. Chakwas' seat across from her, and when she dared to turn her head she saw Garrus was in the bed beside hers. He looked much better than when she'd last seen him, battered and exhausted and covered in blue blood.

   "About time, commander." Joker spoke up first. "Nikolai's been talking my ear off about you, and I've been having to listen to him and EDI swap probabilities of your survival. It hasn't been fun is what I'm saying. They finally agreed on 77.38%, by the way." He braced himself before getting to his feet, walking over to her. "Good to see you're back in action."

   She laughed shortly, then winced. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves. I only just woke up."

   Joker made a dismissive gesture. "Yeah, yeah. You'll be back to barking orders at us in a few hours." He looked down at her, smiling, then gave a little nod. "Well, I'll go tell Nikolai you're awake. He'll probably snap me in half if I don't leave immediately."

   "I have just informed him, Jeff," EDI's voice chimed over the intercom. "He's on his way to the elevator. I am pleased to see that you are conscious, Commander."

   Melanie smiled weakly, casting her eyes in the general direction of the ceiling. "Thanks, EDI."

   Joker looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Huh. Well, better make sure someone's flying the ship, then." He looked down at her again, his expression softening some. "It's good to have you back, Commander."

   Melanie nodded slightly as Joker turned to head for the door, then settled back with a little sigh. Her head was starting to hurt, but everything else seemed to be in order, as far as she could tell. She hadn't tried to stand yet, though, and there was no telling how well she'd fare if she did. A large, three-fingered hand came to rest on her arm, cutting off her thoughts. She looked down, then up at Garrus' face. His mandibles flexed briefly, fidgeting like they did when he was nervous or unhappy.

   He didn't say anything at first, then let go of her arm, shifting a little. He stood, crossing the space between them to sit next to her on her bed. His movement was a little stiff, but the turian otherwise seemed to be in perfect health, as far as she could tell. He didn't have any visible injuries, at least...and for once, he also didn't have his visor either, and it made him look strange. Almost vulnerable.

   "Should you even be doing that? Moving, I mean." Her voice sounded tired to herself, but teasing. It was something, at least. Garrus cocked his head slightly, quick and birdlike, and blinked at her, then flared his mandibles into a little grin.

   "Oh, I'm making it out to be worse than it is. Don't tell Dr. Chakwas, I think she's already about to kick me out." He brushed a finger over her cheek, and Melanie reached up to cover his hand with hers.

   "You hiding from duty in the med bay, soldier?" The corner of her mouth quirked into a weak little smirk--all she could manage without wincing--and Garrus laughed shortly before clearing his throat.

   "No, ma'am." He shifted his hand to brace himself on the bed, then bent to gently rest his forehead against hers. He was quiet for a moment while their eyes met. "Just doing what I can to be sure my commander is going to be okay, even if it's just watching over her."

   Even though it hurt, Melanie couldn't stop her smile from widening into a grin, and she closed her eyes without answering. Garrus made a soft sound, a kind of short, reptilian purr, and reached up to cup his hands around her face. When she opened her eyes again, his expression had gone serious, almost angry.

   "You scared the hell out of me, Melanie," he whispered, the playful tone in his voice gone, his subvocals rumbling with something that sounded close to anger. She felt his talon brush her cheek, under her eye; it stung a little on the bruise there, but she didn't say anything about it. "Never again, do you understand?"

   Melanie just smiled at him, reaching up to run her fingertips along his unscarred mandible. Moving made her shoulder ache a little, but she didn't care. Her hand brushed to the back of his neck and curled around it so that she was almost using him to hold herself up. Garrus didn't seem to mind. "If everything worked, that shouldn't be a problem. Did...?"

   He nodded, as much as he could. "It worked. They're all destroyed. Did a number on the Citadel and the mass relays, but the Reapers are gone, and we can fix the damage."

   She closed her eyes again, grateful that she was already in bed. She suspected the wave of relief that had washed over her would have brought her to her knees otherwise, and she wasn't sure they could take the abuse. As it was, her hand fell to his chest, curling into a tight fist. She leaned forward until her forehead touched the smooth plates there.

   "Thank God," was all she could manage, her voice a choked whisper. Had it only been three years? It felt like she'd spent her whole life fighting Reapers.

   Garrus scooted over a little, pulling her closer and rubbing the scarred side of his face against the top of her head and making that little purring sound again. His hands had gone to her back, holding her up. "I knew you'd do it, somehow," he said softly.

   She laughed, then winced again before relaxing against him. He felt warm and solid against her, keeping her steady like he always had. "That makes one of us, at least."

   He chuckled. "More than one, I think. Nobody else could have done what you did." He pulled back to look at her, silent for a second, then brushed his forehead against hers briefly before gently laying her back down. "You'd better rest while you can, before Nikolai gets here. He'll probably bring half the crew with him, and the other half won't be far behind." He paused to give her a serious look, then added in a quiet voice, "We've been worried about you."

   Melanie sighed when he pulled away, but didn't argue. "I don't think any amount of rest will prepare me for that."

   Garrus laughed softly, then flashed her another grin, this one wider. "Just wait until we dock, Shepard. I'm sure a big part of _the entire galaxy_ will be eager to see their hero."

   She just groaned in response.


End file.
